


Responsible

by SoulOfAFangirl684



Series: Missing Twilight Scenes [2]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Bella's dependence on Edward is not downplayed, But sort of explored, Esme being the mother she deserved, F/M, Guilt, Irresponsible Parents, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, POV First Person, Self-Esteem Issues, Tears, hints at neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 03:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulOfAFangirl684/pseuds/SoulOfAFangirl684
Summary: Years of lackluster parenting have taken their toll on Bella's psyche. As she gets closer to Edward's family, she begins to see the light at the end of the tunnel.(Rewrites the baseball chapter.)





	Responsible

**Author's Note:**

> The first one-shot felt almost like a necessary evil. Correcting something that, by all rights, should have been given more focus in canon. This one is a little closer to my heart. I became genuinely upset analyzing Bella's family relationships while reading the series. This one-shot was more emotionally driven, and I'm actually still quite fond of it.

I can't remember when it started. I suppose Renee always relied on me a little more than would be considered 'normal' for a parent-child relationship. She never regretted separating from Charlie, but being a single parent was hard on her. And I was always so _mature_ and _responsible_… She made sure to stress that. But it wasn't all my mother. I _wanted_ to help her. I liked seeing her happy.

The clumsiness was never a lie. Not completely, anyway. I was unusually graceless, but as a child, that didn't stop me from charging ahead into situations that were sure to leave me with some new injury. It's not quite as masochistic as it sounds. I learned from an early age that my mother was as protective as she was scatterbrained. It's selfish and manipulative, I know, but… It was nice, sometimes, to have her fussing over me like… Well, like a mother should.

But those impulsive moments stopped abruptly after one too many sprained ankles found their way to the emergency room. Much to the protest of my mother, a nurse had taken me into a private room.

"Bella," she'd said softly in a confidential tone, "this is the third time I've seen you in here in as many months. I know you've said you're clumsy, but is something else causing these injuries? You know we can keep you safe if so."

I'd been mortified, understanding what she was getting at immediately. I'd hurriedly assuaged her worries, decided against ever mentioning this to my mother, and resolved to live a lot more cautiously from then on. The nurse's accusations had made shame bubble up and threaten to overwhelm me. I knew how much my mother loved and depended on me. It had been terribly selfish of me. From then on, I'd been determined to act like the responsible, mature young woman my mother always praised me for being.

**…**

I wish I could say I always succeeded. But from time to time, my ugly side would show its face.

I'll admit it, when I first moved to Forks to stay with Charlie, I briefly entertained the idea of letting someone else be the adult for once. What would it be like, I wondered, to let someone else worry about taxes and insurance deadlines and making sure there were always groceries in the fridge? My fantasies were short-lived. Charlie may have been slightly better at taking care of himself, but he wasn't much of a homemaker.

So I quickly squashed those thoughts down and stepped back into my role of making sure the house was clean and dinner was always on the table. On the heels of this resolve was the now-familiar guilt. I felt like a big phony, letting my parents think I was so naturally a helpful, kindhearted person. If only they knew…

I did my best to go about my life as usual. I'd lived with my own shortcomings for this long. I could continue to stand them here.

But of course, then Edward Cullen appeared in my life. And everything changed.

**…**

I'd warned him. Nothing about bringing me to play—or even just watch—baseball was a good idea. But if there was any group that could protect me from myself, it was his family of super-powered vampires. I should have known better.

It was my fault, of course. Clumsiness brought on by my own cowardice.

They were all distracted, wrapped up in their game. Edward and Emmett had collided in the outfield. Apparently, the competition in the air was too much for them to resist, despite being on the same team. (And what I could see of Jasper's expression was decidedly mischievous.) When their argument about "playing your own position" looked like it was going to escalate rather than dissipate, Esme headed over with a sigh. Rosalie headed for the bickering pair as well, passing me on her way. The look she gave me as she strode by was icy enough to make me shiver. I instinctively took a step back, managing to find one of the few dips in the otherwise level field as I did so.

I realized immediately what was going to happen, but I didn't have the balance needed to stop my momentum. It must have shown on my face, because the argument in the outfield quieted immediately. But even Edward's speed wasn't fast enough. He was at my side just a second too late—just as I landed on the ground, a sharp pain shooting up my ankle.

The doctor was at my side just a second after Edward, and they both grimaced at my wince. Their worry made that familiar guilt rise up in me. The shame brought on by unnecessary fawning. And I knew the blush that erupted underneath my cheeks only made it harder for them, which only made me feel worse. Indeed, Esme's face looked pained—she had returned to stand a few feet away—though I supposed that could have been due to guilt on her part. I had no doubt that Edward had stationed her at my side for protection.

Speaking of… Edward's worried eyes were boring into my face. They seemed a little darker than they'd been when we arrived at the game. I wondered distantly if stress could speed up his metabolism.

"Bella," he said urgently. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I tried to reassure him, but my breath hitched involuntarily as Carlisle probed my ankle. "Really. You know me. I can't walk anywhere without finding something to trip over."

My attempt to make light of the situation fell flat. Edward instead turned his intense eyes on his father. "How bad is it?"

Carlisle's smile was slightly more successful at placating him. "Nothing life-threatening. It's badly twisted, maybe a sprain. I'd like to take a look at it back at the house, get some ice on it before the swelling gets too bad."

Before I'd even processed his words fully, I was swept up into Edward's arms. He was careful to keep my left leg as still as possible. Carlisle stood with him.

"Guys, really," I tried again, mortified by the way this outing had turned out. "I'll be fine. You don't have to break up your game." As if I didn't already seem pathetic standing next to them without showing off my very human deficiencies.

Edward didn't listen, of course. It had not taken long to learn that when it came to my well-being, everything else came second. As much as I liked my independence, I'd be lying if I said his concern wasn't heartwarming. Even if he did have a tendency to hover and overreact. Now, at least, I could be thankful I wouldn't have to see the surely judgmental looks on his family's faces. We were already running back through the woods, and I had to keep my eyes shut tight, lest his speed make me sick and give us yet another problem.

The house was quiet when we pulled up. Dark and peaceful. Edward quickly overpowered my feeble attempts to walk myself up the driveway. Before I knew it, we were inside, the lights on, my injured leg propped up. Carlisle was there in a matter of seconds as well, his cool, practiced fingers performing a more thorough examination. For all I knew, he'd already been inside, waiting for us, though it was hard to imagine the very human-seeming doctor performing the same vampire feats as the rest of his family.

Just as I'd tried to tell them, there was nothing really wrong with me. Carlisle wrapped my ankle and prescribed some every day, over-the-counter meds for any discomfort I might be feeling, but ultimately, my ankle would heal itself with time. Now if only I could wipe that rueful look off Edward's face.

Alice and Jasper arrived home with Esme shortly after. They said Rosalie and Emmett had gone off on their own to… make up. I tried not to let my thoughts linger on what that meant.

Jasper nodded once to me before slipping off to some other part of the house. But Alice remained behind. "How are you feeling, Bella?"

"I'm fine," I said yet again, not even trying to hide my exasperation.

"Glad to hear it." Then she turned to Edward. "Are you ready to go?"

My eyes swung between the two of them like a pendulum. "Go where?"

Edward grimaced. "We had a hunting trip planned, but—"

"Then you should go," I cut in. "Enjoy yourselves."

His lips pursed, one eyebrow raised. "You want me to go?"

I paused, reading so many extra meanings behind his words. Alice put her hands on her hips. "Edward. She can handle one night alone."

He turned his shrewd gaze on her. "You're telling me you wouldn't rather have the alone time with Jasper?"

But Alice wasn't backing down. "It was _your_ idea. And we're going to have a great time. I'd know."

"She's right," I said, overcoming my temporary lapse in resolve. "I'll be fine. And I don't want to make this any harder on you than it has to be."

In the end, Alice and my combined stubbornness was able to persuade even Edward. She played the last card, telling him he was more of a danger to me when thirsty, and we all knew it. So he dropped me off at home not an hour later, with a fierce promise to return to me as soon as his own weaknesses allowed. I encouraged him not to get on Alice's bad side, knowing he saw right through me. Our moments spent apart would be agony for us both. And then, with the sensation of a bandage being ripped off, he was gone. I put on a brave face for Charlie's sake, managing to hide my injury as I did so, before heading up to bed early. Once I was under the covers, aware that Edward would not be making an appearance tonight, the darkness seemed to become a physical entity, closing in around me. I felt very, very alone.

**…**

Even so, I didn't think the pain of our separation would still be quite so potent the next morning. It was. It didn't help that Charlie was already gone, which shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't like Charlie was ever the best company anyway.

But now I had no one to pretend for. And I found the silence of the house surprisingly unsettling. It was a bit of a foreign feeling for me. I'd always been independent. In the past, having the house to myself had brought on a feeling of liberation. It was nice to only have to worry about myself for a while. But now, I couldn't shake this persistent loneliness.

I did my best to put my breakfast together and get ready for the day as loudly as possible in an attempt to fill up the house. I nearly tripped down the stairs in the process, landing awkwardly on my bad ankle.

The reminder of the pain in my ankle caused an idea to spring up in my mind. The familiar guilt was close on its heels, but the idea refused to fade back into the dark abyss it had crawled out of. I sighed at my selfish side, showing its face again.

It was awful, I knew. But that knowledge didn't stop me from getting into my truck and heading out past the town limits. It was slow going. I'd only been to the Cullens' home once, but I found that my truck had made the way a little clearer from its first journey through these woods. And even when I made a turn I wasn't entirely sure of, I found I wasn't terribly anxious about possibly getting lost. I was on the right track. I could feel it. It was as if Edward's presence was pulling me in the right direction, through some power I didn't fully understand and couldn't explain.

Sure enough, the Cullens' big white house came into view just a few minutes later, and a warm feeling spread through me. My truck roared to a halt in their driveway, and I quickly cut the engine. I remained where I was for a moment. No one needed vampire hearing to know when I arrived—not with my truck. If anyone was home, they knew I was here.

Even so, Esme didn't open the door until I'd moved to get out of the truck. A sharp pang shot through my bad ankle as I hopped down—I'd managed to forget about it on the drive over.

"Bella?" Edward's mother's kind voice carried easily to my human ears. "Is everything all right?"

I offered her an awkward smile, the shame and guilt pooling in my stomach again. I knew immediately that I wouldn't be able to pull off my deception. Not just because Esme would surely see through it, but because I couldn't bring myself to do it. How pathetic was I, faking pain just to have an excuse to spend time in a place so full of Edward?

Esme approached with careful, measured steps. In fact, everything about her was careful, from the volume of her voice to the distance she kept between us at all times. I'd seen it yesterday too, but it felt especially pronounced now that it was just the two of us. I felt bad for my next blush, knowing it was only making things harder for her.

"I'm fine. I—I'm sorry for just showing up like this."

"Oh, anytime," she hurried to reassure me, and her smile was warm and genuine. "You're more than welcome. But, you do know Edward isn't back yet?"

My blush intensified. "Yeah, I… kind of figured."

Esme's smile was sympathetic, lacking judgment. "Why don't you come inside? You drove all the way out here, and they should be back later today. I'm sure Edward wouldn't mind if you waited for him in his room. I'm afraid there may not be much in the way of entertainment, but there's plenty of music."

I followed her up the stairs, appreciative of her kind attempts to ease my awkwardness. She was being very nice about my intrusion.

I stopped, almost involuntarily, at the sight of the Cullens' beautiful piano. Esme smiled back at me. "Please, make yourself at home, Bella. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

And then she was gone, probably moving faster than she'd intended. I knew Esme had been changed only shortly after Edward, but I wondered how often she actually found herself in the company of humans. I sat down tentatively at Edward's piano, remembering the last time I'd sat here—with him.

The house was silent but for my breathing. Esme seemed to be the only one home. My ploy wouldn't have worked even if I had gone through with it. Carlisle was at the hospital.

I didn't move from my seat on the piano bench, but I closed my eyes, reflecting. For the life of me, I still couldn't figure out what Edward saw in me, but oh, how my life had changed. A feeling had settled over me in the days since Edward stopped trying to keep his distance. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but certainly a nice one—a feeling I couldn't quite put a name to.

_Security_, my mind rushed to immediately fill in, and I forcefully pushed the traitorous thought back, bowing my head.

_I liked my life just the way it was_, I told myself firmly. _My parents had every right to live their own lives. It's not their fault I had to fend for myself so much._

Even these thoughts did little to calm me. The traitorous discontent was close on its heels. So I did my best to push them away too, folding my hands tightly together in my lap. I was thinking so intently about _not_ thinking that I didn't hear Esme rejoin me at the piano until she called my name in her soft, musical voice. "Bella?"

I jumped, knocking over the bench with me on it. Esme somehow managed to catch us both with ease, setting me back on my feet, her expression apologetic. "I'm so sorry! Are you all right?"

She subtly withdrew her cold touch, recreating the distance she'd been maintaining previously. I felt bad for blushing yet again. "I'm fine. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"Of course, dear." The endearment seemed to come so easily, and I wondered if she was even conscious of it. "Would you like to join me in the kitchen? It's about lunchtime."

Her words caught me off guard. I supposed it did have to be past noon by now. I followed her obligingly toward their kitchen, which I'm sure had never seen use before my arrival. Esme seemed very pleased, almost excited about something.

"Alice let me know I should stock the kitchen," she said cheerfully. "Now I know why."

"You didn't have to go to the trouble… I shouldn't have just shown up like this," I apologized again.

"Oh, it was no trouble." She ushered me into a seat at the table before I could say anything else. I found out why she was practically beaming with excitement a second later, when a bowl of steaming hot chicken soup was slid onto the table in front of me. Esme took a step back and clasped her hands expectantly. "It's been a while since I've made soup."

I willed myself to pick up the spoon and take the first bite, but for some reason, I couldn't move my arm. She'd shocked me with her kind gesture. It had been so automatic. So… motherly.

My eyes were suddenly very warm, as if all the thoughts that had been haunting me for so many years were finally coming to a boil beneath my skin. I was vaguely aware of Esme's excitement blurring into concern as the first tears spilled down my face. The emotion welling up in my chest was nameless… And growing stronger every second.

Esme willingly bridged the distance between us for the second time that day and carefully wrapped her warms around me. This, too, felt utterly natural for her, and this made the sobs explode out of me. Esme must have thought I was insane, but she ran a soothing hand over my back and tried to comfort me with murmured words that I absorbed rather than listened to.

I'd never let myself think about how nice it would be to be cared for—taken care of—as completely as I felt now. A part of me, even now, was aware that this moment couldn't last forever. Soon I would have to return to my regular life, where I was the one always taking care of everyone else. But there was yet another part of me that knew, one way or another, that I would join Edward's family someday. This feeling would not be out of my reach forever. And I couldn't help thinking… I could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> What struck me most upon rereading Twilight (for the last time) was how irresponsible her parents were. I get that it was probably more convenient for Meyer to write her as an adult, thus making Bella one of the least authentic teenagers in fiction history, but I can't help feeling like she's only so adult because she had to be. And it started to really bother me that it didn't bother her.


End file.
